


The Flood

by spacehopper



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 13:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14935073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/pseuds/spacehopper
Summary: Costis finds more than ancient scrolls, in a cave below the ocean.





	The Flood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/gifts).



Costis really hoped these scrolls were worth it. Kamet swore that if the records he’d discovered were correct, it was a find for the ages, a chest lost on a doomed voyage, containing a variant tale of the great flood. Kamet’s eyes had lit up at even the idea of what the scrolls might contain. Costis had found he couldn’t resist those eyes, the way the corners folded as Kamet attempted to compensate for his poor vision. And how they widened when Costis told him stories of his time suffering the king’s tender mercies.

So it was this he thought of as he prepared to make the dive from the wooden dinghy he’d tied as best he could to a narrow spear of stone. Perhaps the memory would keep him warm as he plunged into the depths, a shield against the icy waters. 

“Nothing to do but dive,” he muttered to himself, then flung himself from the boat. 

The water was a shock. He’d swam in it before, but rarely. While not so cold it posed a danger, it wasn’t enjoyable. If not for Kamet, he’d happily be back on solid ground. This was the same sort of idiocy that brought him into the direct service of a mad, brilliant king he’d come to revere. Except no, this was more personal. Not so much loyalty as lo—

A wave swept him off his path, and he only narrowly avoided bashing his head in on one of the outcroppings jutting like teeth from the mouth of the cave. When he told the story later, he’d leave out this part. There was a fine line between heroism and bringing more lines to Kamet’s forehead. Taking a deep breath, he dove under the waves, through the waterlogged passageway to the inner depths. And hoped to any gods listening that the maps he’d found had been correct, that this swim was as short as they’d shown.

Costis lifted his head and hit stone. Another long stroke and strong kick, and he tried again, this time breaking the water. He swam over to the ledge and pulled himself onto it. Before him, a skeleton leaned against a chest that still looked miraculously solid, the lock still firmly in place. As he scanned the area, he spotted a key around the neck of another skeleton, and tugged it free. The cord was rotted from age, so Costis carefully placed it in his belt pouch, and went over to the chest. It was watertight, and as he picked it up, he found it quite light. Just as expected for a chest of scrolls. 

He eyed the water with some trepidation. It’d be harder on the return, dragging the chest behind him. So he closed his eyes, and imagined Kamet unlocking the chest, the inward hiss of breath as he unrolled the scroll, scanning the lost text before him. 

And when Costis took the plunge, the water no longer seemed so dark.

*

By the time he’d reached the small house they were staying in, it was dark, and Costis was cold to the bone. In retrospect, it would’ve been wise to bring a change of clothes, but he’d been so eager to set out after discovering the location, he hadn’t planned as he should. But it didn’t matter now. He’d head to the bathhouse as soon as he’d seen Kamet, and find what warmth he could there.

He set the chest down and fumbled with the door, lifting it again as he pushed it open with his hip. Kamet was hunched over a desk, just where he’d left him, frowning at some musty old document.

The chest hit the floor with a think, and Kamet’s head went up, followed by his eyebrows.

“Did you fall in?”

Costis snorted. “No. I brought you something.” He nudged the chest with this foot, then dug the key out of his pocket, handing it to Kamet.

“You brought be a chest?” he said dubiously.

“Not just a chest. It’s supposed to have the scrolls containing the story of Immakuk and Ennikar and the flood.” 

The smile was so small if Costis hadn’t been looking, he never would’ve seen it. But it was enough to light up Kamet’s face as he knelt on the floor, eagerly thrusting the key into the lock and opening the chest. Inside, wrapped in oil cloth, where what looked to Costis to be ordinary scrolls, but were lifted by Kamet with the reverence reserved for a holy relic. 

He set them carefully on the desk, then turned to Costis. His cheeks heated from the way Kamet was looking at him, appreciation verging on adoration. He wished he had Kamet’s darker complexion, to hide his blush.

“Thank you.” Kamet stepped closer, and wrapped fingers around his elbow. He’d clearly been writing, his cheek marred by the smallest splash of ink. The same reckless impulse that had guided his hand against the king took hold as he wiped the ink from Kamet’s face. And it pushed him further to draw Kamet closer, and savor his widening eyes as he leaned in.

“What are you doing, Costis?”

His heart quickened the sound of his name on Kamet’s lips for a moment, and then he said, “Something stupid.” He tilted Kamet’s head back and pressed their lips together. 

Kamet stiffened, but almost immediately relaxed. He didn’t shout or shove Costis away like he’d feared. Instead he wove his fingers through Costis hair, and pulled him closer still. His lips were sweet with honeyed wine. It was a taste Costis would remember all of his days.

But duty called, and Kamet could clearly feel the shivers wracking Costis body.

“I need to change,” Costis said, tugging at his shirt, and trying not to think not hard about the eager way Kamet watched. Another time, perhaps. “And go to the bathhouse.”

“Go,” Kamet said, his fingers tightening on Costis arm.

“When I get back, will you tell me the story of the flood?” And perhaps he could lean against Kamet as he read, staring into the dying embers of a fire, and feeling utterly content.

“I’ll always tell you tales, Costis. The flood is only one of many.” 

A promise, of sorts. And so Costis left their home, not held down at all by the waters, but flying far above them. 

Kamet had set him free.


End file.
